Mr Strand Goes to Arendelle
by T.S. Blake
Summary: Six months after the Great Thaw and her decree to break ties with Weselton, Elsa is forced into a meeting with a emissary from the slighted country. Is this the prelude to a great alliance or a possible savoy into war? Adopted from Soulless Warlock. Read and review please.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Frozen or anything else surrounding the franchise. They belong to the creative forces behind Disney.**

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 **AN: This story was published once before but unfortunately it was taken down when Soulless Warlock was banned from the site. Rather than see it die out too soon, I decided to take up the mantle of the story (with the original author's permission) and run with it.**

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Queen Elsa of Arendelle sat on her throne, her right hand balled into a fist and pressed gently against her face. If she was trying to be funny, she would've made some allusion to _King Lear_. However, she was in no mood to invoke some reference to Shakespeare, much less one of the Bard's more tragic masterpieces.

Especially when she was dealing with a situation (crisis was the wrong word) that could lead to a crisis that could snowball into a tragedy. Perhaps not one of Shakespearian proportions, but a tragedy nonetheless.

The young queen looked at the paper that rested in her left hand a distinctly non _King Lear_ prop and read over the letter again. It was affixed by the seal of the King of Weselton, the Duke's elder and far more amiable brother, if the letter in her hand was any indication.

 _Queen Elsa of the House of Stenkil, by the time this letter reaches you, I hope that your anger toward Weselton has subsided._

Fat chance of that, but that was something she would keep to herself.

 _Though, if I were you, I would still be furious._

Turns out the King was a mind reader.

 _I cannot ask you to forgive and forget, I can only ask that you maintain an open mind. I feel that your decision to end our trade agreement was a mistake, though a mistake that I would've made in my youth._

There was a sarcastic retort in there somewhere, but Elsa decided to let it rest. King Florian had done nothing to either offend or harm her; until further notice, the old man wasn't responsible for his brother's actions. Every man and woman in this world was responsible for their own actions. Of that, Elsa knew better than anyone.

 _I feel that there is a chance, no matter how miniscule, to set things right. I plan to send an envoy in place of myself, in hopes that we can amend this fracture in what was once a strong and prosperous relationship._

It was that section of the letter that made Elsa blanch ever so slightly before she took a deep breath and thawed the arm of her throne. Her father had once taught her that, sometimes, a monarch was left with no choice but to face down the lesser of two evils.

She recalled a rather contentious period in her adolescence when her father had faced down the Queen of Northumbria, Maud III, over a young woman that had sought refuge in Arendelle. The girl had been the disgraced former wife of Northumbria's heir and Queen Maud had offered a title to any man or woman that brought the young woman's head to her.

When King Agdar had decreed anyone in Arendelle who took Queen Maud up on her offer would spend the rest of their short lives in the blackest of prison cells, the old queen had decided to confront the young king in his own domain. Elsa had not asked her father what had been said at this meeting but she remembered that the disgraced woman was sent back to her family in Northern Isles and Queen Maud had returned to Northumbria in anger. However, this anger had not brought war to Arendelle, merely bitter feelings.

Elsa, however, had asked her father why he had risked Arendelle's safety for a disgraced princess, he had replied, "Sometimes, when our choices are robbed from us, we have to look at the real matter at hand. What is a greater evil, Elsa, adultery or war?"

"War," she had replied, although her theology tutor would argue both crimes were great evils. Perhaps he was right, but if one weighed human life against human pride, the choice was clear.

"Northumbria and the Northern Isles would've gone to war had this girl died. And that war may have spilled down to us. I could not allow that to happen when the girl had sanctuary here and I won't allow for other people to die because one person committed a foul deed. A monarch must often choose between the lesser of two evils for the good of their people and, sometimes, they must look out for the good of all people."

Elsa very rarely had the opportunity to reflect on those words until the day of her coronation. She had made what she felt was the wisest choice for the sake of her people by removing herself (the greater of two evils) though she hadn't found a second evil at the time (and she had almost condemned them to being ruled by Hans). She still hated herself a little bit for doing that to them.

Still, why was she even going to the trouble to worry about this envoy? It wasn't as if it was some sort of prelude to war. Florian I of Weselton was famous for choosing the most peaceful methods of conflict resolution, not unlike the long dead Christian I of Weselton. There was no way he was planning to invade Arendelle.

Though Florian was very old and, if what Lord Erikson had was said about him was true, had not left his castle at Stillwater in more than five years. The Duke could easily be ruling Weselton as its de facto head of state. He would definitely call down all of his might, with this envoy sent in as a smokescreen.

She felt the temperature of her throne go down as she pulled herself out of another panic, quickly assessing the damage to the room. Nothing seemed to be out of order, though she confessed she kept the throne room rather stark for just such a reason.

 _The envoy is Aleksander Strand, my nephew by my youngest brother, Prince Jon Strand, Lord Paramount of the Northern Reach. Despite his youth, he is most assuredly qualified to negotiate a new possible treaty._

 _He should arrive within three days' time. I hope that you will show him the same goodwill that you showed my brother before he unfortunately took advantage of it. I give you my word that he will be far more agreeable than my brother. Sincerely, King Florian I of the House of Strand._

Elsa folded the letter and rested it onto the arm of her throne. The letter outright confirmed the choice of whether or not to agree of the envoy's arrival was out of her hands, but it also confirmed that she was the one holding the true power. She would decide if she was going to uphold her decree or to rescind it.

What was it about Arendelle that made Weselton want to remain in partnership with them? They were not a major military power, nor were they the wealthiest kingdom, nor were they a needed political ally, so what could it be?

That question made her smile.

'What'd you know?'

She had a task before her: There was a reason Weselton wanted Arendelle in their fold and she wanted to learn the reason before she made a decision on this new trade agreement.

"Kai!" she called out to her chamberlain, who was quickly in the room.

"Your Majesty?"

Elsa stood up and walked down the steps that lead to her throne. "I need you to send a message to Lord Erikson."

Lord Erikson was her mother's closest cousin (more of an uncle, if anything, to her and Anna) and he had served as regent for Arendelle during Elsa's minority. He was a clever man, but more importantly, he had a vast network of intelligence that stretched from Arendelle to Corona. If anyone had any information on this envoy, it would be him.

"I wish for him to meet with me at the Snow Garden. I have to ask something of him."

"Do you wish me to go immediately?" Kai asked.

"Yes," Elsa said. 'Best to find him and get answers before this man arrives.'

"Very well, my Queen," the older man declared before turning on his heel and exiting the throne room.

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Johan Strand, the Duke of Weselton was not a man who scared easily. One did not survive the world of court in his kingdom by being craven, it was an empirical fact. That did not mean he didn't feel fear, that the gnawing feeling of dread didn't bubble up within him, it just didn't happen easily and would remain that way until they nailed his coffin shut.

But, every once and a while, there was a cloud that would cast itself upon him and make him shake with uncontrollable terror. Each time it happened, it corresponded with his elder brother, King Florian I of House Strand's darker moods. The older man was not prone to fits of anger, so to provoke one would mean that his enemy (or sibling) was calling down the wrath of God upon their heads.

"The king will see you now, your Majesty," announced Sir Lionel Lockwood, getting the Duke's attention.

He stood up, hoping that the sweat on his brow hadn't melted away the spirit gum that held his toupee onto his head. It was one thing to look foolish to a naive young queen but to an old, seasoned politician like his brother, he knew he couldn't seem intimidated.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the throne room. He had been in the room on numerous occasions in his 70-odd years of life and each time he ever entered it, he had one of two feelings; one of incomprehensible delight and the other of incomprehensible dread. Right now, he was feeling the latter.

While he knew that his brother would never raise his hand and strike a fatal blow, if the older man had to choose between the welfare of Weselton and his brother, the Duke knew which option the King would choose.

And so, Johan Strand, the Duke of Weselton, Lord Paramount of the Southern Point, Heir to the Throne, and Strand First Ascending, bowed to his Lord Sovereign as the timeworn green eyes of King Florian I Strand, Lord Paramount of the Empire, Defender of the Realm and Protector of the Faith looked down at him with a look he could not discern. Maybe that was a good thing, he would know until his brother began to speak.

"Before you say a word, you will allow me to speak," the King commanded, choosing to remain on his throne as his younger brother knelt before him, the younger of the two praying that his toupee didn't fall off. "What in the name of all that was good and holy possessed you to order the assassination of the Queen of Arendelle?"

Johan went to speak, only for his brother to silence him with a simple raise of the hand.

"I'm not finished." Florian had always been known to have an even temper, a trait that he shared with their departed lady mother, but today was a day that he reminded Johan of their late royal father. "By all counts, I should hand you back to Queen Elsa. But, she has found it in her heart to return you to Weselton. And not empty-handed, I hear."

The monarch of Arendelle had ended their longstanding trading alliance with Weselton, an alliance that Florian himself had established with the girl's grandmother, Queen Sonia, only decades earlier.

"Your Maesty," Johan began, "if I may speak freely?"

"For the sake of the mother who bore us, I will allow you to speak. But, be quick about it. I have to bandage this wound and make sure our other allies don't view this disaster as some sort of expression of intent."

"I understand that I made a critical mistake," Johan said. "However, I believe that there is a chance to make amends."

"Do you now?" Florian asked, sarcasm dripping off of his voice.

"Yes," Johan said. "The Queen does not seem to be a woman possessed of a malicious spirit. She allowed for Prince Hans to be returned to the Southern Isles and she allowed for me to return to Weselton."

"Something I feel was more to punish me for sending you there in the first place."

Johan chose to ignore his brother's comment. "We may be able to use that to our advantage."

"''We?'" Florian asked. "No, no, no, that is not happening."

"But, I am the Duke of Weselton. The Duke always -"

"Do not presume to tell me who will work on point with this assignment," commanded Florian. "Your presence would only serve to enrage Queen Elsa. I would prefer not to infuriate a woman with control over ice."

"She cannot control it," Johan countered. "I saw that for myself."

Florian was silent for a split-second. "All the more reason for you to remain here. That is final."

Despite Florian's acceptance of counsel during his near fifty-year reign, his word remained the law of the land. Johan had long learned to accept this, but that did not mean he had to like it. That was the one thing Florian could not take away from him.

"Who do you plan on sending instead of me?" The list of candidates was numerous and, no doubt, Florian had put a lot of thought into his choice. Perhaps it had been unwise to feign illness in order to stay away from the Capitol in the first weeks back to Weselton. He had allowed his brother to gain an edge.

"I have thought about it," Florian answered. "It's a sensitive mission and I have to find someone who can be trusted."

"Lady Ravenwood?" Johan asked. The chief councilor on foreign affairs was a childhood friend of the king and a negotiator without peer. "Is it wise for her to be traveling so soon?"

"No," Florian answered. "Which is why I didn't ask her. And, before you ask, it will one of my councilors, but he will be closer to me than merely political connection. You'll have to earn your way back into my circle of trust some other way."

What could he mean by that Johan wondered, but he kept his thoughts to himself? If it wasn't any of the councilors, all men and women Florian trusted implicitly, who could be on their way to Arendelle that was close to king?

"I've sent Aleksander," Florian answered, a ghost of smile forming on the king's lips before he answered Johan's second, unspoken question, "I've been able to read your face since we were children, Johan, and that's why I've always been able to beat you to the punch."

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Outside of the palace, in the Snow Garden, Lord Harald Erikson was watching Olaf stand motionless in the eternal winter wonderland that the Queen had created after what many in Arendelle were calling The Great Thaw. Despite only just getting used to the odd little snowman's presence and sentience, Lord Erikson had begun to notice things about him. One of those things was an acute sense of the Queen or the Princess' location – actual or intended. Olaf had been in the Snow Garden for over 20 minutes and showed no signs of moving. That gave Erikson an idea that one of the royal sisters would appear shortly.

"Hello, Olaf," he finally called gently.

Olaf turned to greet him, his stick arm waving gleefully.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No," the tiny snowman said, "I'm just waiting for Anna or Elsa. One of them will be here before you know it."

Lord Erikson smiled at the snowman. He had taken a shine to Olaf in the short time he had known him. Though, he did, sometimes, question the lucidity of the naive little creature. Sometimes, he questioned whether or not he, himself, was mad for even speaking to Olaf. It most likely didn't matter, in the end.

"Lord Erikson?"

He looked up and bowed to his queen, watching Elsa cross from the winter garden's icy entrance.

"Hey, Elsa!" Olaf cried happily. "You come to play?"

Elsa sighed, turning back to Olaf. "Unfortunately, I can't today, Olaf," she said, Olaf's normally jolly features falling. "But, I may be able to get an hour of my time to spend with you tomorrow."

"Promise?"

"I promise." This seemed to pacify Olaf. "But, I have to speak Lord Erikson about some important matters."

"Of course," Olaf said, turning away. "Just pretend I'm not even here. But, even if I was, you wouldn't have to worry. I'm very good at keeping secrets. Did you know that Anna broke off the ear to one of the busts and glued it back on?"

"No, I didn't know that," Elsa replied, Erikson observed her face. Her expression told him she was both furious at Anna for covering up her act and was, at the same time, impressed such a thing had escaped her notice.

"Cause I wasn't supposed to tell you." Olaf paused for a second. "Wait, I'm not good at keeping secrets. I remember now, because I told you all about Kristoff being able to sneak into-"

"Olaf!" Elsa silenced him, her stricken look crossing her features.

Erikson found himself chuckling at her distress. He had once been young and in love, so he would never be scandalized by anything the little snowman might reveal – though he did not like to think of his little princess in such a way.

Elsa, however, seemed more bothered than amused. "What if I decided on two hours tomorrow? Would that make you leave the garden?"

"Sure," Olaf declared, waddling off as if the conversation had never happened.

Elsa rubbed her forehead, as if she had managed to get a very curious and talkative child out of the room. He remembered those days well, so he couldn't blame her. The Queen took a deep breath and turned to him.

"Thank you for seeing me," she said.

"It's my pleasure, your highness," he said. "What is it you need from me?"

She handed him the letter. Erikson pulled out his reading glasses and began to examine the contents of the letter. It was, most definitely, written in King Florian's hand and bore his seal. He would occasionally look up at Elsa, who seemed to want to ask him something.

"This letter is official, and he moved quickly. Knowing that by the time it arrived to your hand, you wouldn't be able to send a reply." It was smart. Dirty, but smart.

"What can you tell me about the envoy?" she asked once he had set the letter on the bench.

"Well, in addition to being a member of the royal family, he's a member of Weselton's foreign affairs council. He replaced Lord William Darry around the same time of your coronation. From what my sources at court have told me, he's one of the more progressive minds on the council and he's incredibly persistent when it comes to his country's interests."

"Do you think he's a threat?" she asked.

"My sources have no found no evidence that he's a danger to anyone," Erikson said carefully. He had made it a habit to keep track of all the members of the surrounding royal families. If only to make sure they were not threats to Arendelle.

Elsa seemed to read into his hesitation. "Say what you mean."

"He may be wearing a very clever disguise. Prince Hans seemed rather fond of that disguise and the royal court of Weselton is more backstabbing than the one in the Southern Isles."

"So, I should be on my guard?"

"Conceal," Erikson said, "but feel. Remember that your instincts are much better than you give them credit." Elsa opened her mouth to protest. "You saw through Prince Hans and kept your distance from the Duke, this envoy, if he is false, will reveal his true self to you in due time. I apologize for interrupting you a moment ago, your majesty."

"That's more than alright," Elsa said. "I thank you for the information."

"Is there anything else you need?"

"Yes," Elsa said. "I feel rather foolish for having not asked this before but, do you know why Weselton and Arendelle entered into a trade alliance?"

"If I remember correctly, it was because, at the time, Weselton's merchant ships had a rather unenviable issue with pirates."

"Through the Western Gulf," Elsa said. "I remember reading about that."

"Indeed. Well, Arendelle is a relatively obscure point. The pirate kings and their captains don't really even consider us a place to attack."

"Thankfully."

"Indeed. So, your grandmother and the Duke of Weselton at the time, King Florian now, met up and they hammered out an agreement. It's a longer journey, but a safer one. This allowed for them to trick the pirates and make the Western Gulf a safer place to travel. But, you already knew this."

"I do," she said. "That's official story. The one that Grandmother told Arendelle and my father. But, what was the unofficial story?"

"The unofficial story?" he asked. "You mean to tell me that you don't believe the story your grandmother told the people of our fair country?"

"No. I just know that every story out there has an added layer."

Erikson nodded to his queen. "That is usually the case. I don't know the unofficial reason. But I can always find out."

"Thank you," Elsa said quietly as Erikson stood up and began to walk toward the edge of the gardens.

He turned back to the Snow Queen. "Your Majesty, if an old man could speak freely."

"You are far from old, Lord Harald," she stated, "but you may speak."

"I know that you believe there will be some sort of repeat of your coronation." He was quick to continue speaking before Elsa could even open her mouth. "I know you well, my queen, and I've seen you with your council, imagine it is like that and everything will be fine."

"That might not be the case," Elsa stated.

"How so?"

"I hope I don't fall asleep during this meeting."

Erikson chuckled with her and exited the garden, leaving Elsa behind.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with** _ **Frozen**_ **or anything else surrounding the franchise. They belong the creative forces behind Disney.**

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Aleksander Strand stood at the bow of the _Florian's Flight_ , his eyes focused on the port of Arendelle. From what he could he see, the kingdom seemed to be in good order, in spite of his Uncle the Duke's proclamations to the contrary.

'Perhaps this will not be as difficult I thought it would be,' he thought to himself confidently. 'Not difficult at all.'

He decided it was time to get prepare for the landing. He didn't have much to do before he would treat with the ruler of Arendelle but he wanted to be ready nonetheless.

Aleksander Strand turned at the bow to make his way back down the deck of the ship. Only, his turn didn't go as he had planned. Instead, his right foot stayed in front of his left as he completed his turn, causing him to tumble to the deck below when he attempted to take his first step.

He couldn't be sure if the crew was laughing at him, but he would ignore it. He had learned to ignore that sort of thing over the years.

'Just ignore it and pretend your face doesn't feel like it feel through a row of tree branches,' he told himself mentally as he pulled himself to his feet. 'Just ignore it.'

He waited for his vision to reset itself before he started walking.

"Captain Falk," he said to the ship's leader, "I'll be in my cabin. If it isn't any trouble, could you send someone to tell me that we have arrived?"

"It will be no trouble at all, Lord Strand," Captain Falk said, his lips pursed together, as if trying to suppress a laugh.

"Thank you, Captain," Aleksander Strand said. "Carry on."

As he walked toward his cabin, he could hear the entire crew that had been on deck began to howl in a swell of laughter. Aleksander found himself smiling a little.

"It was a little funny," he told himself, entering his cabin and shutting the door behind him. 'Last time I try to look like I'm sailor.'

He walked over to his desk. Admittedly, he hadn't gotten much use out of it as he had learned that sea travel and trying to read and write was not exactly conducive to a settled stomach. He had spent most of the voyage with his head in a chamber pot. He knew it was the only way to get Arendelle from Weselton, but he didn't have to like sailing.

Making sure he didn't look over the papers, he gathered them quickly and placed them into a bag he had had specially made for such works. His clothes were packed and he was sure that his bad breath had abated as he hadn't vomited in more than two days.

Setting down the bag next to the bed in his cabin, he laid down. He wanted to be well-rested when he met with this Snow Queen. He wasn't sure what he would find in Arendelle, but he wanted to be sure that he wanted to be ready.

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"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Anna asked for what felt like the millionth time.

"I don't know," Elsa replied for what felt like the millionth time. "But, King Florian…"

"The High Chief of Weaseltown?"

Elsa had to hide a smile. While renaming the country had been a mistake on Kai's (well, everyone's) part, nor had it even been her best insult, it was the most appropriate way to tell the Duke off. It so succinct and so perfect where the Duke was concerned.

She continued, "…has sent an emissary to Arendelle and it would a poor choice diplomatically to not meet with him."

"You cut off contact, you think that would clue him in that you didn't want an emissary, or ambassador, or whatever this guy is supposed to be."

"True, but his letter didn't reach us until just a couple of days ago," Elsa said. "That puts us in an awkward situation."

She prayed it was only an awkward situation. That was something she could handle – for the most part. If this was a feint and Florian (and, by extension, the Duke) was sending the fleet into the port of Arendelle with a declaration of war, she was in trouble. Arendelle had no standing army and she was still not confident enough in her powers to protect her country. And, even then, she was only one person.

'No,' she proclaimed, 'it won't come to that. I won't allow.'

"I still don't like it," Anna confessed.

"Neither do I, Anna, neither do I."

"So…" Anna said, breaking the momentary silence between them, "…do you think he looks like his uncle?"

Elsa's head slowly turned toward her sister, an eyebrow raised most un-regally.

"What?" she asked.

"I mean, do you he looks like a weasel or like Hans?"

Elsa smirked mischievously but in ever so slight manner. She couldn't let Anna see that she was plotting something "Anna, I don't think Kristoff would approve of you checking out other men," Elsa countered.

And it worked. Anna looked utterly scandalized and, amazingly, her blush was even visible.

"I am not!" she declared.

"I won't say anything," Elsa replied, the coy smirk turning into a coy smile.

"I am not!"

"Kristoff will never know."

Anna glared at her, but it only made Elsa smile more. Teasing Anna was something she had missed. More importantly, it was something she loved. If love was the thing that controlled her powers, she was going to need Anna and all of the things she loved if she was going to make it through this meeting with the envoy from Weselton without it ending in disaster.

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The ship came to a stop as Aleksander's eyes opened again. How he had he let his uncle talk him into going to Arendelle?

'Right, I wasn't talked into it,' he declared inwardly. 'I was told I was going after I got back from the Colwen Grounds.'

His uncle had a habit of doing that. But, his uncle was the King and Aleksander saw no reason to try and talk him out of him it. There was the whole seasick thing, but he could let that slide as King Florian was not exactly known for his sea travels either. Regardless, he was here with a task and he planned on completing it quickly and efficiently.

"Lord Strand?" a voice called out from the door of his cabin. "You said you wanted to know when you could leave the ship."

Aleksander turned to the cabin boy. "Yes," he replied, taking a hold of his travel bag.

"The gangplank is down and the Queen is waiting for you at the port."

That was odd. Normally, the sitting leader was not just waiting for him when he arrived. The Lady of Colwen Grounds was a notorious recluse and he had worked with her through her son, who served as the go-between. The same could be said of the Lord of the Westernwall. Though he could recall that his uncle, the King, used to meet with foreign dignitaries when they had arrived, so there was a precedence for the event, it was just something he wasn't used to having happen.

Aleksander stepped back out onto the deck, shutting the door behind him. Before he even considered walking even further, he made sure his bags were secure in his hands. The last thing he needed was to drop them in front of the ruler of Arendelle especially since he was arriving without an entourage.

'Let's do this,' he thought as he walked toward the gangplank, ready to make a small mark on history.

 **0000000000**

"I was only teasing you, Anna," argued Elsa, only to be met with an uncharacteristically silent Anna. "I used to do that to you all the time."

Anna remained silent.

"Fine," Elsa said, folding her arms. "If you don't want to talk anymore, that's fine."

"What you said wasn't funny," Anna said, contradicting Elsa's command almost immediately.

"How did I know you were going to do that?" Elsa queried.

"Call it payback," Anna said, not looking away from the ship that was making its final docking preparations.

The sisters watched the gangplank finally move from the inside of the vessel and onto the dock. They looked up to see a tall man at the very top of the plank.

"Queen Elsa," he called out. Though his face was obscured by the sunlight, his voice was strong and it carried over the sounds of the ship, "it's a pleasure to be here in Arendelle. My name is Aleksander –"

The man on the gangplank never had a chance to finish his sentence as he seemed to trip on seemingly nothing and went tumbling down the gangplank, his bags flying through the air. Anna was the first to move, racing to the man, who was shaking off what had happened.

"Are you okay?" Anna asked.

"Yes," the man said. He was clearly frazzled by the fall, but he seemed fine. Almost as if he was used to this sort of thing. "I'm fine. A little embarrassed, but I'm quite alright."

He dusted himself off and cleared his throat before turning his attention back to Elsa.

"Your Majesty," he said formally, bowing quickly before extending his hand, "My name is Prince Aleksander of the House of Strand, Councilor of King Florian I on Foreign Affairs, it is a pleasure to meet you at last."

Elsa gave the smallest of polite curtsies and extended her hand as well. "Mr. Strand, it is a pleasure to meet you as well." The two shook hands. "However, I'm afraid that it was a wasted trip."

Mr. Strand did not seem to react at her statement. He merely nodded before he spoke again, "I understand your reticence, Your Majesty. However, I feel that it would rash to make such a decision without hearing Weselton's terms first."

"It's more than just reticence, Mr. Strand, your uncle attempted to have me killed."

"And that has not gone unnoticed," Mr. Strand stated. "In fact, it is one of the terms in the agreement that I drew up my…" He looked down at his hands. "Oh my…"

His voice seemed to shrink when he realized he had dropped both bags he had been carrying. Mr. Strand's eyes quickly darted toward the side of the ship and into the water.

"Oh no," he said.

Elsa suspected he meant to do so under his breath but she heard it quite clearly. He quickly turned to her, a sheepish look on his face.

"If you could be ever so patient," he finally said, racing down the line of the harbor, screaming, "No! No! No!"

Elsa and Anna covered their mouths in concern as Mr. Strand dove toward the end of the harbor, slamming into the ground and grunting in pain when he landed. He pulled himself up, a thick bundle of soaked papers in his hand. He desperately tried to pull the soaked bundle apart to find his putative agreements, the papers tearing as he made a noise that Elsa could only recognize as complete and utter distress.

Mr. Strand stood up and shook his head, as if to compose himself and reclaim his dignity. He walked over to both Elsa and Anna, the former was still watching him carefully while the other seemed thoroughly amused by his plight. (Though doing her best to conceal it).

"I want to apologize for that display," he began. "It was unnecessary and I would not hold it against you if you included that in your report to my uncle, the King." He stopped himself before another thought seemed to cross his mind. "Though, I do see this as a chance for both of our kingdoms to be reconciled. Looking back at the contract I drew up, I feel it a little unfair to Weselton…If it isn't too much to ask, I think we could work on an agreement that is mutually beneficial to both of our countries."

As he rambled, Elsa was not sure how to take this all in. He seemed utterly real but she had to remember how the Duke and Hans had pulled the same ruse and both she and Anna had fallen for it (Her sister more than her, not that she'd ever tell Anna that). This was the Duke's nephew, so, regardless of his supposed authenticity, he would need to be watched.

But who could she trust with such a sensitive matter? Lord Harald had left Arendelle on his own mission. She could ask one of her advisors, but would they let it slip? She was never which one she could trust and which one would be turn wherever the political wind blew. So many choices and so many could go so horribly wrong.

It was moments like this that made her wish she wasn't queen. The world, however, was not made on wishes but on actions.

'I'll do it myself,' she decided as Mr. Strand stumbled forward, almost tripping over his own feet.

"Your Majesty?" he asked. "Are you okay? I hope the weather isn't bothering you." His face contorted as he realized it was close to the winter solstice. "Not that I believe the cold bothers you. But, if it does, we can possibly move this discussion inside?" He took a deep breath. "If that's okay with you, of course. I am your guest, after all."

It took everything Elsa had not to smile at that comment, it reminded her of someone she knew quiet well.

"Captain," Anna called out to the head guard, "can you retrieve the carriage please?"

The guard nodded and waved the carriage over, the driver directing it gently toward Elsa, her sister and the currently tongue-tied diplomat.

 **0000000000**

The ride back to the castle gave Anna a chance of her own to size up Mr. Strand…or was it Prince Aleksander…Or was it Lord Strand…No, she remembered Elsa mentioning that his father was still alive…and his father was a prince as well…Maybe it was better to ask.

"So," she said, trying her best to sound casual, "are you called a Prince or a Lord?"

"Anna," Elsa scolded under her breath.

"It's perfectly alright," Mr. Lord Prince Aleksander Strand replied. "It would be easier to refer to me as Prince Aleksander or Mr. Strand. My full title is rather long and," Anna felt his eyes move over her shoulder and rest on Elsa, "I would rather spend the time wasted on that on something more constructive."

Anna turned to Elsa and watched her look away from their guest, lost in a thought most like. She looked back at Mr. Strand.

"So, Mister Strand it is?" she asked.

Sander nodded with a smile, catching himself as he almost tipped out of his seat. Anna knew that feeling and she smiled at him when he took a deep breath after realizing she had caught him. He quickly turned his head to watch the streets of Arendelle, taking in the sights of the shops and homes and all of the places Anna herself had gotten to now in her time outside of the castle walls.

"That shop right there makes some of the best sandwiches in all of Arendelle," she declared, getting Mr. Strand's attention. "That building over there is actually two halves of one business."

This seemed to surprise Mr. Strand. "Really?"

"Yes, it was a bit of a surprise, but I find that surprises can be…for the most, pretty wonderful."

Anna studied the emissary from Weselton and tried to get a feel on him…Oh, that sounded wrong…She tried to get a grasp…Nope that sounded even worse. He seemed friendly enough, maybe even a genuinely nice guy. But, after the incident with Hans, she knew that you couldn't trust someone merely on face value. Granted, you couldn't always know them even after you thought you had gotten to know them. There were still things she was learning about Kristoff and she knew he would never lie to her.

"Surprises can be good," Mr. Strand stated, once again looking over her shoulder and focusing on Elsa.

Anna was starting to wonder if his mother ever taught him it was rude not to look at person if you're talking to them.

"And I hope to surprise you both," he continued. "My uncle, the Duke, has left a bad taste in your mouth, I understand. But, I wish to show you that not all citizens of Weselton as greedy as he is."

"I do not believe that they are," Elsa finally said. "It's the leadership I do not trust. I feel as if I'm beating a dead horse. This trip was a waste of time, Mr. Strand, but I will give you a chance to say your piece. A good Queen always hears both sides."

Mr. Strand nodded. "That is all that King Florian asks. Thank you, Your Majesty."

"You are quite welcome."

Anna watched this exchange, trying her best not to make the tension worse.

"Look, we're finally back to the castle," she declared happily, hoping some of her optimism would ebb out into the two parties before they began to negotiate.

She could not predict what would happen next. But, it was something that should not have surprised her, but completely did.

Mr. Strand, it seemed, wanted to get started straight away.

"While all the ideas are still in my head," he had explained.

Elsa, however, wished that the schedule of the castle not be altered for the sake of a single emissary. Her coronation was one thing but the up until a day ago unknown arrival of an ambassador would not disrupt her carefully-constructed day.

"You'll have to write them down," Elsa declared as she entered the dining room. "You are more than welcome to join us for…"

Anna wondered could've made Elsa stop speaking midsentence and cause her eyes to widen when she herself caught sight of a shadow that had been cast on the wall, a shadow with stick arms that waddled.

"Are you okay, Your Majesty?" Mr. Strand asked, as if caught the change in her expression.

"I'm fine," she said, though Elsa's tone clearly said something else.

Anna was about to move to try and keep Olaf out of the room but she proved to slow for the magical creature as he entered the room.

"Elsa, you said you would –" he called out before spotting Mr. Strand. "Oh, we have a new friend."

Anna was just about to say something when Kristoff stepped into the doorway, stopping her from grabbing Olaf.

"Hi, my name is Olaf and I like warm hugs," the little snowman declared.

Mr. Strand turned around and seemed surprised when he was met by no one…until he looked down.

Mr. Strand's eyes widened as he took a breath and seemed to suck in both of his lips.

"AHH!" he screamed, kicking at Olaf and dislodging his head from his shoulders.

Kristoff caught the head and looked to Anna. "I am getting the strangest feeling of déjà vu."

Anna glared at him before turning her attention to catching Olaf's body before it got too far away.

"Is that how people say 'hi'?" Olaf inquired.

"I think royalty does," Kristoff quipped.

Meanwhile, Anna saw that Mr. Strand had taken a seat.

"What was…what was…?"

"That would be Olaf," Elsa said. "It's very long story."

"If he is a friend of yours, I apologize profusely."

"No need to," Olaf said, head still detached from his body, causing the emissary to jump.

"How does he?" Mr. Strand asked.

"As I said," Elsa stated, "it's a very long story."

"I have time," he said.

"I will try to explain it over dinner."

"If I'm still invited."

"Of course you are."

"Then I will return as soon as possible."

"Gerda," Elsa called out in her most regal of voice. "Show Mr. Strand where he will be staying."

"I will, Your Majesty," the older woman said. "Mr. Strand, if you will follow me."

He was out of the room by the time Anna had wrangled Olaf's body to submission and reunited it with it's head. Olaf had tried to help, he had whistled but considering his part that could hear, that hadn't made much sense.

"Olaf," Elsa said to the now one snowman, "I want to say thank you."

"Okay," he said. "For what?"

"Ever since I received that letter, I have been dreading this meeting. However, thanks to you, I think Mr. Strand will be easier to handle than I had previously thought."

Olaf nodded and looked over at Anna and Kristoff, the former getting a vague idea of what her sister meant while the latter was a little lost.

"Can you two explain what's happening here?" Kristoff asked.

Anna turned to Elsa. "Should I tell him?"

"Of course, Anna," Elsa said, turning around and heading for the kitchen to make the request of the day.

 **0000000000**

Lord Harald Erikson's small boat floated through the smooth waters of the aptly-named Stillwater. He had hoped to enter Weselton without any sort of fanfare and, so far, he had succeeded. When one is on a covert mission, one tends to want to keep things on the more sly side. However, he was also trying to meet in secret with a king and a king, in spite of even their own deepest wishes, never travelled alone.

"Lord Erikson," a strong voice called out when he finally reached the harbor that linked up with the castle of Stillwater.

Erikson looked up to see the world-weary face of Sir Sigmund Barstow, the Lord Captain of King Florian's personal bodyguard. The knight held out his hand, bidding the older noble to take it.

"Lord Captain," Erikson replied, nodding to his own guard that everything was safe. A member of King Florian's private guard, particularly the Lord Captain, were loyal to the king and the king alone – even the crazy ones, but that was neither here nor there, "it is good to see you again."

Sir Sigmund helped the older man onto the dock of the harbor and gave a respectful bow. "It is good to see you again, my lord. Though I have to say that I would've expected you to have arrived with a little – What's the word?"

"Fanfare?" Erikson asked. "That was never my style, Sir Sigmund. How is his Majesty?"

"He is well," the knight stated, biding Erikson to follow him. "He looks forward to meeting with you."

The noble saw the two horses at the end of the dock and smirked when he recognized the one that was not cloaked in the arms of the private guard. King Florian had named this horse Fireball. She was bred for both beauty and speed, something that Harald could appreciate. Though it would not take long to reach the castle of Stillwater, a good horse could spell the difference between a covert mission and a blown cover. He preferred the former over the latter.

When they finally did enter the castle, Sir Sigmund enter the private chambers of the king first to tell him of Erikson's arrival. Standard protocol, Erikson knew and he waited for the Lord Captain to give him permission to enter.

"Lord Erikson," Sir Sigmund said, "the King will see you."

Erikson entered the chambers of King Florian.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Erikson said, the candles in the room creating a dim light. He could not see the old man in the dimness, though he could make out a silhouette in the room.

"Oh, it's not an issue at all, Lord Erikson," the King replied. "I did spring Aleksander on your Elsa quite quickly myself."

"Yes, but I think those two could handle each other," he said.

"I wouldn't have chosen Aleksander if I didn't have faith in him," King Florian said, finally coming into focus. "So, that begs the question, why are you here?"

"To the point as always," Erikson said. "Nice to see some things will never change."

"Oh, they change eventually. When I'm gone, things will be different."

"But, hopefully, that won't be for a very long time."

"We take that time we are given. Have a seat, Lord Erikson."

The two men sat at the table that had the largest candle.

"Again," Florian began, "I ask why you're here?"

"My Queen has sent me on a mission," Erikson confessed. No sense in lying to the man. "A simple mission on paper, but one that perplexes us both. Why did you make the trading pact with Queen Ingrid all those years ago?"

"Harald, have we forgotten our history lessons?" Florian chided good-naturedly.

"I'm aware of the official reason, your Majesty," he said. "I wish to know the real reasons."

Florian's eyes narrowed before he reached for something next to his seat. Erikson saw him place a dead plant on the table between them.

"What do you see?" he asked.

"I see a dead plant," Erikson answered.

"But, is it?" the older man asked before taking the plant in his liver-spotted hands and closing his eyes.

Erikson was stunned to see that they had begun to glow green and the plant sprang to life in the King's hands.

"So, now you know one of the reasons," Florian said, "but would you like the other?"

Erikson firmed his jaw before saying, "Yes. Tell me everything."

 **0000000000**

 **A/N: And that is chapter two. I really hope everyone enjoyed reading. It took some doing as I had a lot I wanted to do with it but wasn't sure how to get there. I want to thank Soulless Warlock (who gave me the opportunity to finish his story) and 100YardDash for helping me with the rough parts. This chapter is for both of you.**

 **I hope you all let me know what you think because I cannot get better without your input. So, until next time, this is T.S. Blake signing off.**


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